Chapter 82

Lila's POV

By evening, the guests began to arrive. Black cars rolled up to the private entrance one by one, engines purring, doors opening to reveal gowns that shimmered like galaxies and suits sharp enough to cut glass. Security stood tall and vigilant, each guest ushered in with precision.

I stood near the back of the hall, watching it unfold, pride blooming despite the storm inside me. Drew’s dream was alive. The murmurs of awe, the sharp intakes of breath as people took in the décor made every work we put in worth it.

Celebrities, political elites, international investors, media moguls and royalties filled the hall. The room glittered with power and wealth. This was the 1% of the 1%. And Drew was their conductor, orchestrating a night that would imbibe his name in stone.

When he finally stepped onto the stage, the entire room shifted. Conversations were cut short, glasses lowered and even the air stilled, waiting for him.

He looked devastatingly composed, his tailored black suit molding to him like it was built with him in mind. His shoulders squared, his stride steady, he carried the kind of weight that made people lean in without realizing. He didn’t have to shout for silence. His presence was enough.

And then his voice, deep, steady and unwavering, rolled across the hall.

“Good evening.”

Just two words, and the spell had been cast.

He started his speech and spoke of vision not just building another hotel line, but of creating something people could see as a sanctuary.

He painted it with words that wrapped themselves around every person in that hall. A hidden Eden within the chaos of the city. A place that offered stillness in a world that demanded chaos. He didn’t just present it, it felt as though he was letting them into a secret, one that they only had the privilege of hearing.

From my spot backstage, half hidden in the shadows, I watched him, and I couldn’t deny it. He was magnetic, powerful and unshakable.

The screens behind him flickered to life, revealing not just designs, but moments time lapse shots of every of the hotel rooms coming together, hands placing every detail with care. When he described the hotel’s heart, the crowd leaned forward as though pulled by invisible strings. Their eyes lit up, their nods small but certain. He had them.

Applause thundered when he finished, the sound rising and falling like a tide. Some stood to clap, others simply exchanged knowing looks that said this is history. Drew Sinclair wasn’t just a name anymore. Tonight, he was an empire made in flesh.

The unveiling was next. Soon, Drew would lead them into the true marvel, the garden hidden within the hotel walls. The reason for all of this.

Yet even then, the unease in my stomach wouldn’t fade. I caught glimpses of the catering crew moving among the guests, their trays lined with champagne flutes. One of them lingered too long near the stage, eyes too sharp for a man serving drinks. My pulse quickened.

“Focus Lila, you're just anxious. It’s nothing.” I tried to tell myself this as I pushed the feeling aside

I exhaled slowly, moving to the side corridor backstage. Just a few more hours and it would be done. The launch would succeed, Drew’s empire would be secure, and I would finally tell him the truth I had carried like chains around my heart.

The hall buzzed louder as the staff prepared to guide the guests. I leaned against the cool wall, letting my shoulders sag for a brief second. My head tilted back, eyes closing. I just needed one breath before I rejoined the chaos.

That was when it happened.

A hand clamped down over my mouth, fast and ruthless.

I gasped, my body jerking forward, but the sharp, chemical sting of a damp cloth filled my nose and mouth. The scent was acidic, burning my nostrils, flooding my lungs with fire.

Panic exploded in my chest. I thrashed, clawing at the hand, my nails raking skin. My eyes flew open, wild and searching and in the gleam of a glass panel nearby, I saw his reflection.

Max.

His smile was cruel, triumphant, his eyes glinting with the darkness I had once mistaken for charm.

“No” The cry caught in my throat, muffled against the cloth.

My legs weakened, my body sagging even as I fought, fought to keep air in my lungs, fought to stay awake.

The world tilted. My arms were stretched out, desperate to find something solid to hold on to, but the shadows pressed closer, swallowing me whole.

The last thing I saw before the darkness claimed me was Max’s face hovering over mine, smug and victorious.

And then everything went black.